


Not even half

by UniversalTalent



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt, Isolationism, Loneliness, Pain, Rebellion, Weird Plot Shit, nerds, smut-later, some other stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8202880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalTalent/pseuds/UniversalTalent
Summary: "There's no other explanation, Spock."He stared straight at the wall in front of him."There has to be."Bones sighed, "but there isn't.""But I can't have children, doctor.  It's genetically impossible.""It's the only explanation!""Have you not tried-""Spock.  That is your daughter! Go talk to her!"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy and shout at me in the comments  
> I really like this concept and hope to do more with it as time allows

On earth, religions were no longer an important part of society.

It was very much a reverse of history. People of religion started becoming a minority around 2100 or before. It happened very slowly, but ways of life became lost to a cause humanity thought of as better than fearing for one's own mortality. After MACO was formed, there really was no one to stand solidly against something such as space travel for religious reasons. Individual beliefs and morals that were not held by any large part of the population were no longer capable of standing in the way of progress for humanity.

In the earth year 1902 permission had been granted, interplanetary by the galactic federation, for religious factions to become independent of the rest of their planets. They were given their own sovereignty and a hypothetically safe and controlled way to practice and protect their faith.

                 Article 3017, act 1, clause 2 of the laws and sanctions of the galactic federation:  
                         “Any specific, non-outlawed religious society is allowed to exist under its own  
                          Sovereign authority, allotted properties by the galactic federation and not the planet  
                          Within the religious society exists. Religious societies fully sanctioned and recognized  
                          By the galactic federation are henceforth fully independent and sovereign as their  
                          Own nation/state/society/country, whichever the planet agrees on.”

When aliens were found with their own complex systems of belief and life, religious people felt the need to defend their faith. This happened with nearly every non-authoritarian race. The not-so-strictly religious practiced their beliefs mainly in quiet, not necessarily hiding, but protecting. From pagans to Christians, Hindus to Muslims, the extremely religious communities broke off from society. They formed their own communities. Their own schools, teachings, and ways of life away from the rest of society. They isolated themselves from progress to preserve their faith.

In 2107 people moved by the thousands to the galactic predetermined religious sanctuaries. It was a pilgrimage.

For generations, the majority of these nation/states, as the general hegemony of earth decided, lived almost without contact to the rest of the world.

Eventually, around 2200 or so, a deep seated, generalized resentment had festered in these individual communities towards the outside world. After generations of teaching and strict interpretation of whatever text they had, they believed anyone outside of their community to be someone feared and resented.

Because they had their own laws completely separate from the rest of their worlds, these societies were self-governing. They could create whatever law enforcement they wanted. Their justice systems were generally based on belief and not concept of justice or fairness. If they were to be self-governing, they needed to produce their own food and perfect medicine by themselves. Often these communities slipped back centuries in human development. They had their own schools, usually teaching only what was necessary for a minimalistic life and nothing beyond, effectively trapping each new generation into the same cycle with the same contorted beliefs.

***

Nancy Edwards lived in an Irish, catholic community following only the old testament.

Nancy was a middle child and had 3 brothers and 2 sisters. The youngest of her two older brothers was 2 years older than her, he would take over the family farm when her parents became too old. Her younger brother was 4 years younger than her and excelled at building. Nancy’s youngest sister, 5 years younger than her was the best chef in the whole village, with the right husband, she could have a restaurant. Nancy’s other sister was just a year younger than her and was a quiet girl who would make a good wife.

Nancy had two older brothers. One would be a farmer and the other was Joseph. Joseph was a problem child. He studied outlawed ‘black magic’, which was catholic for science, until he was 14, when he was caught. Nancy would come home from school nearly every day and he would be reading a book. It was big and purple and the title said ‘physics’. She didn’t know anything about ‘physics’ and therefore could not know it was ‘wrong’ and ‘the devil’s work’.

“Nancy, come here and see this.” Joseph said one day as she walked through the door,  
coming home from school. She nodded and walked over.

Nancy had always liked Joseph. He was her favorite sibling, though she would never tell anyone. Joseph was always kind. Her other siblings were kind, but Joseph was different. Joseph was smart. He treated her like she was a person, not a child and not a girl.

She walked over to look at his ‘physics’ book. On the page was a diagram. It looked like a long stick with wings. She was confused.

“Nancy, do you know what that is?”  
She shook her head.  
“That’s because you haven’t ever learned. Nancy, would you like to learn?”

There wasn’t a second’s hesitation and no thought as to what learning would imply. She grinned and bounced eagerly as her brother brought her into his lap so she could see the book better.  
“Yes.”  
She giggled a little after she spoke.

There wasn’t an instant of hesitation from Joseph either.  
“Nancy, that’s a machine that flies.”  
Nancy felt her eyes go wide.  
“A machine that FLIES?”  
She knew they used machines on the farms and tried to imagine those flying and laughed. The grin on her brothers face consuming of his eyes.

“That’s right, a machine that flies, Nancy.”

“This book here has to be our secret, otherwise we won’t be able to read anymore okay?”  
Nancy just kept her stupid grin on her face and nodded.

After that, Nancy would try to come home as early as she possibly could every day to see what her brother was reading. She learned about crazy machines and she learned about cells and she learned about history. She learned about space and the beings who inhabited it.

As Nancy got older Joseph accumulated more and more books. They read everything from philosophy to chemistry.

Nancy took a specific liking to physics. The first topic she was ever introduced to. This was especially outrageous because not only was moderate physics outlawed, but physics was a man’s subject.

Joseph never batted an eye when Nancy asked for her first advanced physics book. Nancy looked at the ground and blushed the whole time.

“Nancy, there’s no reason to be ashamed of learning.”

Joseph was tall. He had blue eyes and thick ginger hair paired with freckles, just like nearly everyone in the village. The difference when it came to Joseph was that his eyes weren’t dead. His eyes saw. His eyes analyzed and retained information. His eyes weren’t ever foggy or a million miles away. His eyes were piercing crystal clear.

“I know, it’s. . . It’s just that physics is a man’s subject.”

Nancy looked like her brother. Nordic features, strong shoulders and all. The looks of the Edwards family were all strong without a sharp angle in sight. One of the laws of the village stated that women were not allowed to cut their hair. This was why Nancy’s ginger hair hung in a curtain over her face whenever she bent her head too far down, like she did when she was embarrassed. And it flowed like a water fall when she shook her shoulders, like she did when she cried.

“Nancy, I want to tell you something.”  
He took her by the shoulders, pushing the curtain away and staring directly into gray/blue eyes and a red face.

“Anywhere, and I mean anywhere other than here, you wouldn’t be a girl.”  
This was obviously a very confusing statement to Nancy who cocked her head, allowing tears to fall on her dress.

“Nancy, you would be a person. If you were to go to a normal school, you would take physics classes. You would take math classes. You would never need to know how to sew. You wouldn’t have to learn cooking in school. Do you understand why?”

She shook her head no and she was swept into what was probably the most heartfelt hug of her life.

“Because knowledge has no gender, Nancy. Neither does intellect, nor strength and not skill either. You would be valued as a person.”

 

For her ninth birthday she received an old college physics book with a picture of two wing suiters above the clouds on the front.

On Nancy’s tenth birthday Joseph was caught. Her father had come home early to surprise her when she came home from school, earlier than her but not earlier than Joseph. She remembered crying when he was whipped for the first time in public. After the third time she couldn’t bring herself to watch.

Nancy herself was considered a model catholic child. She did as she was told, excelled at cooking and knitting and all things a catholic wife ought to excel at. No one knew that she knew what she had done after school for the past few years.

There was a hole in her wall that had been there for as long as she remembered. She deepened the hole and salvaged what books she could from her brothers hiding places. No one ever suspected her, they searched her other two brother’s rooms but not hers.

Her parents disowned Joseph when he was 17. He tried to run away multiple times only to be caught by the local substitute for law enforcement. He got into a fight with an officer on the outskirts of town, near the forest by the road. He refused to apologize or pray for forgiveness. Mother and Father disowned him while he sat, disgraced, in a cell.

“If you are no longer a child of god you are no longer a child of mine.” Where the exact words her father used.

Nancy was a heartbroken 15-year-old when he was caught. Each of the family had time alone with Joseph, he was awaiting a sentence from a divine judge. The punishment would undoubtedly be immediate and it would undoubtedly be death. Joseph had had trouble with the law before and they weren’t going to take violence against a figure of authority from an educated man lightly.

“What are you going to do after you escape?” Nancy had no doubts that he would. He was ten times smarter than every god fearing person in the village. And he had the advantage of not being completely ignorant.

“I’m going to join Star Fleet; I want to become a psychologist.”

Nancy was already crying but she cried even harder. If he joined star fleet, he would go into space, and he might never come back and she would never know.  
“Will I ever see you again?”

He was crying as well.  
“I might come see you. . . Or you could come see me.”

She sobbed because they both knew that could never happen. They held each other through the bars of the cell until the authority in charge said she had to leave.

Joseph escaped at 3:42 am exactly. The whole town heard gunshots but they didn’t catch him.

Nancy moved her books to the woods and buried them in a chest under an oak tree.

When Nancy turned 19 she married exactly who her parents wanted her to. His name was Richard Clark Brown. Nancy thought her parents chose well for her, given her options, Richard was essentially perfect. He was nice and strong and capable in every way a catholic husband ought to be.

“I do.” Richard said, and he meant it.  
“I do.” Nancy said.

Two weeks after her wedding she got a letter and reported to the post office. It was highly unusual to receive a letter, but it wasn’t unheard of. It was almost completely unmarked on the exterior, with nothing that a letter ought to have, except who it was addressed to and where it was going. So no ‘return address’ that was a term she learned from Joseph.

She opened it, read the who it was from, and immediately hid it on her person. Her eyes wide she left the post office.

When she got home she told Richard she was feeling ill and hid in the bathroom.  
She barely pulled the door shut before shaking hands unfolded her brother’s letter.

She was quietly sobbing by the time she finished the delicate writing of her brother’s penmanship for the first time.  
She read it five more times before she knew. She knew she needed to see her brother. He was graduating the academy in London and becoming a science officer on the USS Excalibur.

She left the bathroom, told Richard she was going to sleep early and began packing.

***  
Nancy left her village at 3:42 am, leaving a note for Richard saying that she had been called by god to go to London. Women, especially newly married, never did anything, even as simple as going to get milk, without their husband’s approval. It was kind of cruel to Richard but it was justified. She needed to see her brother. She could never be happy if he went to space and never came back. She didn’t care that he was a disgraced heathen and she didn’t care about whatever god she had grown to resent. She needed to say good bye. The church would forgive her.

She honestly wouldn’t have even cared what the church thought if the church wasn’t the law.

She walked the 12 miles to the nearest transport station. She had planned it all out beforehand. Take a ‘cab’ to the edge of Ireland and get on a ‘boat’ to sail across the ‘Ocean’ to England and find another ‘cab’ or a ‘bus’ to London if the ‘boat’ doesn’t go there directly.

She exchanged her money at the gas station to the galactic standard, payed to call the taxi, which in fact existed, and payed the taxi to take her to where she could find her ‘boat’.

As it turns out, she, being in the middle of Ireland, had to find three more taxi’s before she could make it to Dublin. It was around noon when she made it there but didn’t stop for food, she didn’t think she could eat even if she were hungry.

Everywhere she looked there were cars and buildings. Huge, huge buildings. She saw people moving and breathing and living and she saw lights. She knew how they worked, but she never thought you would ever be able to power so many. They floated on metal poles above streets or they were attached to the buildings or they just. . . Were. She saw clothing. She saw suits and shorts and men in dresses and women with short hair, books never had anything about clothing. She saw men and women working side by side. She saw people reading and writing and talking and shaking hands and laughing. None of it looked evil. None of it was what she was taught anywhere but in Joseph’s disgraced books.

She got on her boat, it definitely existed, at 1. The whole time she stared at the water. It was huge, the biggest thing she’d ever seen. It lapped at the boat, like it was trying to tip it over and swallow it. She was scared at first. She’d never seen anything so big. It was deep, it was cold, it was terrifying, it was beautiful. The light that reflected off of the water hurt her eyes. The air hurt her skin. It was amazing.

She started exploring her boat and eventually came upon a room with a big picture in it that covered up almost the entire wall. It was mostly blue interrupted with patches of green that sometimes had words on them.

She began to read the words. A half an hour went by before she read a word she recognized, she knew many words in comparison to everyone to her village but she had never seen words like this. The word she recognized labeled a small patch of green next to a thinner and larger patch of green. Both of these patches of green were next to a really large patch of green called ‘Europe.’

The patch of green with her label on it was small. It was so small. It was so unbelievably tiny and yet that little bit of green in that entire ocean of blue that lapped like it wanted to consume everything was her entire existence.

The label said Ireland.

***  
Spock gave up trying to pretend it wasn’t happening halfway through his second physics class of the day. At 8 am, about three hours after he woke up he, that was when he first decided to acknowledge the signs that he noticed. He woke up hard and intentionally found something to try to hide it. At around 6:30 am in his first physics class of the day, which was, indecently, his first class of the day, he noticed a rapid heart rate and breathing, a sign of increased testosterone and adrenaline. During his math class at 7 am he was fidgety, he absolutely could not sit still. He was never fidgety. Towards the end of the class he couldn’t even watch the professor. At 8 it was a question of how long he would hold out. At 8:30 am in his physics class he knew that he wouldn’t be able to make it back to his dorm in time if he didn’t leave now.

They were doing a lab he found his professor, told him he was sick and left.

His professor was trying to tell him something as he kind of scrambled out of the classroom, but his hearing had shut down. He couldn’t hear anything but his own painful pulse.

He felt hot tears leaking out of his eyes and blood flowing from his nose.

Out of the classroom.  
Out of the building.  
Every person he saw smelled delicious.  
Spock, count by twos.  
2, 4, 6  
8, 10, person, 12, 14, door, 15, person, 18, male, 24, 25, 27, female  
His body slammed into walls and doors and railings, but never people. If he touched someone he wouldn’t be able to get off of them.  
68, 40, 11, 34, door.  
Dorm.

He barely got the key into the door and didn’t remember closing it and

Spock breathed in through his nose with closed, pained eyes.  
“My name is Spock.” It came out as a grunt through gritted teeth followed by a sharp intake of air.  
“I-I-I grew uponVulcan.” Speaking hurt, it hurt so much.  
“M-MMM-MMMMmmy father is- is-iz” He took another deep breath. Then another. Then another.  
“My father issss Vulcan.” He has to push the words out. He’s losing control of his body.  
“MMmmyyYYY Mothhhher is Hu-Human.” His body wasn’t obeying. He could. Not. Panic.  
“I-I-IIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. -”  
His body ran out of air and collapsed before the scream cut off.

He grunted a few more times, curling up into the fetal position to try and keep his limbs under pained control.

Stay in the dorm.  
Stay in the dorm.  
I can’t die my first Pon Farr.  
It’s not how Vulcan anatomy works.  
If I can stay here no one will get hurt.  
No one will get hurt.  
No one will get hurt.  
I won’t die.  
It will be over in two more days.  
No one will get hurt.  
Stay here.

His body was screaming but he couldn’t hear it. It hurt so much. His body hurt so much. Everything hurt so much.

No one will get hurt.  
Stay in the dorm.

His mind was fading.

Stay in the dorm!  
Stay. In. The. DORM.  
NO ONE HURT STAYINTHEDORMNOONEHURTCAN’TDIESTAYSTAYSTAY-  
Don’thurtdonthurtdonthurt. . . dont. . .. HURT

***

The first time Nancy saw London, she cried.  
She saw the flying machines.  
She saw the cars, and the airplanes and the small space ships.  
She saw the buildings and the architecture.  
Nancy saw people who weren’t afraid of knowledge or progress.  
It was so much bigger than even Dublin.

The Ocean was grand, but this, this was different. This was a pinnacle of existence. This was where wholly different species came together. Where the climax of humanity met-

“Uhh, ma’am? the boat’s docked, it’s time to get off.”  
She jumped, looking at the crew member, flustered and blushing and excited and grinning with tear streaks on her cheeks.

“Yes of course, thank you.”  
She sprinted to get her bags, no one could tell her not to run here. That “running wasn’t ladylike”. She laughed and jumped as she did.  
The bewildered crew member staring after her mumbling about a manic pixie dream girl.

She grabbed her single crude duffle bag, nearly knocking people over as she turned so fast and rushed, blood pumping onto the shore of England, on the edge of London.

Where she docked was a bus station. She eagerly waited in line for a ticket, never losing any of her throbbing excitement as she bought a ticket for the 3:30 bus to downtown London. Leaving her with thirty minutes to find the most intriguing and strange food she possibly could.

***  
Spock was scared.  
He was so scared.  
He’d been lying on the ground for 5 hours? 6? He couldn’t read a clock anymore. Everything was pain and want and desire.

“It’s because Vulcan’s have such deep emotions that we are mindful of them Spock.”  
Spock learned early on not to show expression when speaking to his father. He had liked to play a game with himself when he was younger, he would visualize the human emotional reaction he would have in his mind, but speak and act as a Vulcan. This was how he managed to strike his first balance.

In this case he couldn’t figure out whether he would scowl or scoff. His Vulcan was confused but his human was petulant and had the strong desire to be willfully obnoxious at the moment.

His father had told him time and time again that it wasn’t a healthy balance. That it was unsustainable, and he was most definitely right. Over the years, Spock’s visualization of his own mind changed and morphed again and again, but, from time to time especially when he was in his darkest most helpless state, the Vulcan/Human division would return. It was like his right arm and his left arm trying to pull their corresponding sides away from the other lest they get tainted.

“Spock, I can see what is going on in your mind.”  
His eyebrows furrowed  
“I am not fully Vulcan, Father.”  
When Spock looked back up he saw his father with a raised eyebrow. His Human was ashamed, his Vulcan was angry, angry at himself.

The anger and frustration that he felt almost never went away.

“You must learn to think of your Vulcan and your Human as one instead of separate, I can see the division in your mind, what you think of as a balance is a precarious interlude for something destructive.”  
Spock’s eyebrows stayed furrowed.  
“But father, how?”  
“Only you can learn that. That is your own independent journey, now, count with me.”

“two, four, six, eight. . .”

“10, 12, 14, 16.”

He’d worked himself back to speaking.  
The counting was a popular Vulcan method of preparing the mind for meditation, getting into the right mindset. If Spock was lucky, that’s where he would end up. Now more than ever, he needed his control.

***  
Nancy sat on the bus eating something called a ‘taco’. She hardly touched it, not because it was bad, but she was too busy staring out the window in wonder and amazement. All of this existed. People lived without the fear and control she did and were happy. They were not heathens. They were humans.

She took another bite of this ‘taco’. It had lettuce and what appeared to be ground hamburger, cheese, tomatoes, and a bunch of other spices and leaves she couldn’t identify in a hard shell. Nancy decided it was delicious.

The trip downtown was thirty minutes; it would take her fifteen minutes to get to the academy after she got off the bus. She did some research and main classes were done at around 5:00. She would surprise her brother, he would most likely be there when she got there, if not, she would wait.

From the letter she knew Joseph was in dorm 116 in the east Broadway housing facility.

***

Spock was not meditating.  
Spock was screaming.  
Spock couldn’t hear himself screaming but he knew he was.  
It was, truly, a surreal experience to be in so much pain that something in your head just disconnects. His body refused to black out. About half of his young mind was dreaming up nightmares while the other half wondered how to fix this, the divisions came back but he couldn’t tell which was which, just that they mixed like water and oil. And then there was Spock, not any part of any of it.

The pain wasn’t pain as it is normally felt. It was more like over stimulation. He was receiving too much sensory stimulation. Way too much. It was like he could feel every organ in his body sliding grossly against every other organ. The carpet and material that touched his skin felt like needles puncturing every individual cell in his body. The air was too cold and too hot and too thick and too thin for his delicate lungs. He could hear everything. Every noise his body made every sound from outside the building, every dorm inside of it, and every human being.

He could hear every single human being, breathing, writing, walking, running and speaking. He could smell them too. Sweat and anxiety and joy and fear and sadness, he could smell every individual person in the dorm. They smelled different with everything they experienced. Anxiety smelled different than fear smelled different than relief and each and every person had individual smells for each emotion.

It was too much.

He had always used his intellect to think his way out of everything. To reason with life as a barrier. He used his intellect to keep his mind and emotions together. He didn’t know how to think any other way, he refused to think any other way, so his mind shut down. He had won a battle against his body in that way at least. His body wasn’t obeying his mind but he couldn’t feel his body either.

He was aware his body was in pain. He was aware his body was screaming. He was aware his body was aroused. He just couldn’t feel it because his mind just wasn’t there.

***  
Joseph Kane Edwards had a roommate who he thought was strange. This wasn’t unusual because everything was kind of strange after growing up the way he did. He adjusted well, mostly because he had the will to and offered absolutely no resistance to the universe whatsoever, but, it took him about three weeks after arriving at the academy to realize his freshman roommate was unusually weird.

He didn’t talk much. Joseph didn’t even know his name until two months in. It wasn’t until after six months Joseph gave up on trying to talk to the guy and did research himself. Spock was Vulcan, but he was weird even for a Vulcan.

“Spock!”  
Joseph was practically sprinting down the sidewalk towards Spock.

“I nee- Need to talk. . . To you.”  
He was out of breath and panting between words by the time he caught up.

Spock turned with a frown on his face.

“It-It’s about the new semester rooming arrangements.”

Spock cocked an eyebrow.  
“I had assumed we would remain roommates, considering our relationship hasn’t reached a point where it is yet unsustainable.”

Joseph was bent over with his hands on his knees, still trying to catch his breath. He had sprinted from the other side of the campus.  
He nodded.  
“Yeah, yeah, tha-t’s cool, I just wanted- to make sure it was co-ol with you.”

“That works perfectly, I have a class in fifteen minutes so I hope you don’t mind if I excuse mys- “

“Spock wait.”  
Joseph was upright again. Finally.  
“Do you want to talk?”

“I’m afraid I require you to be more specific.”

“I mean, we don’t talk. I mean, I talk all the time. But you. . . Don’t.”  
There was no reaction from Spock for quite some time. It was extremely unnerving.

“I understand your concern for our relationship and I will consider an exchange of information.”

“Lovely.”  
Joseph said as he doubled back over.

It took time, but Joseph eventually learned a good deal more about Spock than he had ever expected. But maybe that was only due to the fact that they roomed for four years together. Regardless, Spock was only half Vulcan, his other half human. He grew up on Vulcan and his father was an ambassador.

He was poised to switch rooms for his third semester before Spock told him how he had grown up as an outsider on an entirely different planet. Ridiculed for his emotions and working harder than anyone else to prove himself.

After that, even if they weren’t ever friends, Joseph knew he related to Spock. At the end of the day, Spock liked that even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

Spock was, expectedly, annoyingly tidy and had habits other people wouldn’t understand. Because of this it was logical for him to stay with Joseph. And Joseph couldn’t bring himself to deprive Spock of someone who would accept him.

“Spock, I’m going to be gone for a few days.”

There wasn’t even a grunt in response.  
Joseph rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

No response.

“Remember to feed yourself.”

Nada.

“Your Dad said he was stopping by tomorrow.”

Nothing.

“Swivel chairs weren’t invented by Thomas Jefferson.”

Spock turned around at lightning speed with fire crackling in his eyes, but still didn’t say anything. He then sized Joseph up and the bags at his side.

“Speaking in direct opposition of my views on a topic that you have explicit knowledge I hold firm beliefs upon suggests that you are attempting too illicit a response from me.”

Patience is a virtue. The best virtue. Count to ten before responding.  
One, two, three, four. . .  
“Yes Spock, I just wanted you to acknowledge that you were aware of my leaving for a trip to the city with friends.”

Spock turned back.

“It has been acknowledged.”

***

Don’t hurt don’t hurt don’thurtdon’thurtdonthurt  
Doorshutdo or shut door shut KEEP DOOR SHUT

He was back, kind of.

Don’T NEED To hurt  
NO HURT

While he was away his body, fighting through the pain, had inched forward towards the door seeking the one thing it needed to not be in pain. His roommate would be back tomorrow. He had to figure something out or Joseph would get hurt.

Spock, find four things in this room you can see.

He couldn’t focus on breathing anymore; his body had found the pattern in that.  
Vulcan meditating during pon farr is always about mind over matter. Mind over matter.  
Mind over matter.  
Mind over matter.  
Brain over eyelids that seemed to be sewn shut.  
No preparation breath, just shattered panting.  
Your arms don’t exist.  
Your lungs are not breathing in fire, no matter what signals your nervous system is sending.  
Your legs do not exist.  
Your heart rate is not over 400 beats per minute.  
The only thing that exists Slowly, his left eyelid flickered open only to be seared by the light in the room.

Try again.

Breathe in. Out. In. This time it was both his eyes that flickered open. It was almost twice the pain. Blink. Maybe about ¾’s of the pain. Blink. ½. Blink. Breathe.

He was lying on his back, he could see the texture and color of the ceiling. Does that count as one? He didn’t dare try and sit up. He turned his head slowly to his left, feeling an animalistic fire whenever he moved. He saw a nightstand, two. Everything was kind of fuzzy, not the visual kind of fuzzy but the fuzzy you feel when you can’t think. On that nightstand there was a lamp, three. That nightstand was next to a bed; he couldn’t tell if it was his or if it was his roommate’s.

Three things you can hear.

People. He could hear people outside of his dorm, one. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. It was summer and it sounded like summer outside, two? He heard what sounded like a pounding noise coming from the door, three-


End file.
